Page 33 - Images Literary Magazine 2016 - 2017.pdf

She never thought he?d be in harm,
Her disregard did show,

?I?m sure he fine,? she always said,
But little did she know,

The rose seemed to turn bright scarlet red,
Unlike the pink before,

It smelled of sickness, death, and gloom,
The petals red and gore.
As days had passed the boy seemed worse

And fronds fell one by one

The stem was skewed with thorns of pain
But the worst was still come.
Chara stood upon the path

The rose was dead and gray,
The boy did not appear that night,

Nor any other day.
Chara went around the town,

Searching every twisted path,
Regret had flashed before her eyes,

It was flaming red with wrath.
Pictures by J aelyn Dias, Brynne Her friend had fallen to the sky,
Harrison, and Oliva Strumolo
With Chara?s life still standing,

She threw the rose down to the Earth,
Her guilt was still expanding.

She cried the tears of regretted sin,
But how could she forget,

And then she saw that full rose bush,
That thrived with every breath.

Even though the boy was gone
Roses never left her mind,
Reminded of what she could have done,

To save the boy from time.